MARCH 12
The present crisis is always the worst crisis.
—ELAINE M. PREVALLETWe get through one terrible day. Then another. Eventually
the first anguish of grief begins to fade. Maybe we think we
have passed the worst of it. Then something will hap-
pen—the strains of a familiar song, the scent of flowers or
perfume, the figure of a stranger across the street who holds
her head in that familiar way—and we are overwhelmed
with fresh grief.
Things will get better. But we are always open to new re-
call, new occasions that remind us of our loss. Our grief
seems fresh again, but it, too, will pass.
May I accept the rhythms of grieving. I have enough to worry
about without scolding myself that I’m still so vulnerable.